


Step by Step

by Fishwichformylove



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwichformylove/pseuds/Fishwichformylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long distance relationships make physical intimacy a challenge. America has an idea for an experiment. Games like these were just reminders of how much and how far they could go for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step by Step

_Alfred,_

_I'm not quite sure how well this will translate via e-mail, but I hope you find this satisfactory. I rather like how it turned out, but don't let that pressure you if it illicits any unpleasant reactions. I just want you to be happy and safe. That sounds rather ominous; I haven't asked you to do anything outrageous or dangerous, but please, Alfred, don't you dare go through with this if at any point you feel like stopping. I know it was your idea in the first place, but you're still my responsibility in this scenario._

_All that aside, I miss you, darling. So much. Six months is too long a time to be without you and I'm starting to go a bit mad. We need to find time to be together soon. As much as I look forward to seeing the results of this little experiment, I know it won't compare to being able to actually hold you and kiss you._

_I've attached the file with the instructions to this message. Please print it out and follow them step by step. Don't read ahead, you curious little bugger._

_I love you. Please be safe._

_Yours always,_

_Arthur._

America opened the attachment and hit the print button as quickly as he could. When the _fuck_ had his printer become so slow? He could hardly contain himself as the ink cartridge trudged back and forth, his heartbeat keeping time with the whirring noises flying from the machine. Giddy with anticipation and already beginning to feel warm, America pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it into the corner of his office, leaving him in just a white tank top and his jeans.

The final page emerged from the printer and America all but tore them out. He read the first few lines with breath held.

_You little slut. We're apart for barely any time at all and you behave this way? Are you lashing out because I'm not there to fuck you every night like I should, or are you just a depraved wanton incapable of controlling himself?_

Oh this was gonna be good. He loved it when he got chewed out for unspecified crimes. America grinned, but felt the intoxicating twist of guilt and shame start to burn in his stomach.

_Don't think I don't know what filthy things you've been up to. You're nothing but an ill-mannered child who can't keep his hands out of his trousers for more than a minute. You need to be taught a lesson in self-control. You need to be punished. I've indulged your puerile desires for far too long and it's time you started acting like my good little bitch instead of a selfish, ungrateful whore._

America had to sit down, having been so wrapped up in reading that he had forgotten to breathe and was starting to feel dizzy. His hands started to tremble ever so slightly, but whether it was in excitement or nervousness, he didn't know.

_Since I have more important matters to attend to than you and your depravity, I am ordering you to carry out your own punishment as I have outlined in the following instructions. I will require photographic proof of your obedience within 48 hours of your having received these instructions. This is for your own good, boy, so don't cock it up, or your will not be pleased with the consequences._

America quickly unplugged his laptop from the printer and its charger, opening up the webcam to use for the "photographic proof". He walked to his bedroom and checked that the lighting was good enough and set the laptop on his bed.

_Go to the kitchen and retrieve a long handled wooden spoon. I know you have one, you glutton. Make sure it is good and thick. We wouldn't want it to break midway through your punishment and for you to have to start all over, would we?_

Nearly breaking his neck on his way up and down the stairs, America was out of breath from running by the time he returned to the bedroom with his prize.

_Strip completely naked. I don't care if it is freezing cold or sweltering hot. Strip completely naked, remove your glasses, and take a picture of yourself from the front. I want a full body shot. Do not attempt to cover yourself. You should want to be on display for me and only me, slut._

After tossing the spoon on the bed, America removed his clothing and glasses, skin tingling from the cool air. He suddenly felt self-conscious and awkward. It was a confusing addition to his burgeoning arousal, but he found himself turning the screen of his laptop towards himself nonetheless. Seeing his body totally vulnerable on the screen made him want to pull his knees together and hide himself with his hands, but he was thankful he wasn't hard yet. It would be embarrassing if England knew how turned on he was already.

He adjusted the camera a few times and stood in various ways before taking the picture. It was both horrifying and incredibly arousing to see himself on parade that way: eyes wide with the rush of adrenaline, but face timid and totally subservient to England's orders, his cock soft but his hands clenched into tight fists as he fought the urge to hide. America became self-conscious about things that had never bothered him before: Were his tan lines really that distinctive? Did he always stand like that? Had he gained weight? Did England think that the dark gold trail of hair travelling down from his navel and growing into a small patch of pubic hair was attractive, or did he wish America were more consistent with his "manscaping"? America swallowed the doubt as best he could and resumed reading the instructions.

_Now I want you to touch yourself. You must become fully erect. You can imagine I'm there touching you, stroking your cock until you beg me to let you cum. I'd whisper filthy things in your ear as I so tenderly teased every inch of your thick cock. Perhaps I'd even get on my knees and blow you. Would you like that? I'm sure you would. Imagine it, but don't cum yet. I want at least one picture as your pleasure yourself, and one when you're completely hard and want to be on display for me again._

America was already palming himself by the time he finished reading. He set the timer for the camera to go off in 40 seconds, and then closed his eyes, allowing fantasy to overtake him. In his mind, England wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, the warmth from England's chest and legs sending tingles shooting up and down America's back. One hand trailed slowing past America's navel, petting the trail of curls there until it reached it's objective and began to fist America's cock mercilessly. England's other hand pulled back on the hair at America's nape, forcing his head backwards until England could get a clear view of his neck. America moaned as he imagined England biting his pulse point punishingly, continuing to nip down his shoulder. England tortured America by subtly grinding his crotch against America's bare ass, but suddenly all sensation was gone. America gulped as he imagined England slinking in front of him and melting into the floor, lusty green eyes staring up at him as England took all of his cock into his mouth in one go. Never breaking eye contact, England bobbed his head agonizingly slow, fingernails scratching down America's thighs.

Warned by a harsh lurch low in his belly, America snapped his eyes open, destroying the rich fantasy. He removed his hand from his cock and took several deep breaths to regain some modicum of composure. Frozen on his laptop screen was the picture taken while he masturbated. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, but his mouth hung open, mid-moan, ecstasy evident in every inch of his tensed muscles, his hand little more than a blur over his cock. America grinned, imagining how England would react to the picture, gratified in knowing he would please him.

Feeling a bit more daring, America turned sideways and took another picture, unable to suppress a shit-eating grin. England would get to see the full length of his cock, and America hoped he would note the cheekiness of his expression. It would probably piss England's dominant muse off, but America knew from first hand experience that it was worth it to be a little rebellious in situations like this.

America resumed reading, irritated that he hadn't been able to cum yet, but looking forward to the next set of instructions.

_Did you enjoy that? Well, now it's time for your punishment, poppet. Lie on your bed face down. Pull your knees up and raise your hips until your bottom is in the air. Spread your thighs just enough that you can use a hand to cup yourself. Do not use this as a means of pleasure; merely cup yourself. Take a picture once you have done this._

Getting positioned was a bit of an adventure since America had a little trouble staying balanced while setting the camera. Eventually he managed it, holding his pose while he waited for the countdown. He was surprised at how red his cheeks were becoming, feeling degraded and humiliated with his ass in the air. He simultaneously wanted to escape the feelings and wallow in them.

_Now take the wooden spoon. You are to spank yourself with it until the act produces genuine tears. Do not be so harsh that you produce any cuts or true damage on your sweet little arse, but I expect you to hit hard enough that sitting is a tad difficult for a day or so. While you carry out your punishment, you must maintain an erection. If you fail to do so, you must start over. I want a picture of your slutty, tear-stained face and your poor little red bum when you're done. I will know if you have faked it or gone too easy on yourself. Don't even attempt to disobey me._

America gulped and took a deep breath as he lifted the spoon in his right hand. He and England had discovered how much he liked being spanked during the course of one of their more adventurous lovemaking sessions, so America's skin was already chilled with excited goose bumps. It took a few tries to get a solid smack across his ass with the spoon since the backwards angle was difficult to navigate, but once he managed to land a good hit, America didn't even bother to fight the moan that escaped his mouth. A few more smacks had his thighs shaking. How England thought it would be difficult for him to keep it up during his "punishment" America didn't know. The swift snap followed by the growing dull ache across his butt cheeks was actually making it harder not to touch himself and finish.

He indulged himself in a half-dozen more sensual smacks, grunting and twitching with each delicious impact. America still hadn't managed to produce any tears, so he tried to make each spanking motion less deep and turn thuds into harsh stings. His ass burned and he whimpered in pain, but he continued to punish himself. It still felt good, but the stinging sensation was achieving the desired result as America felt his eyes starting to well up and his nose starting to run.

A few more moments of spanking had America crying out for England and trembling like a leaf. Tears leaked unfettered from his eyes, and he could feel his face getting puffy from the effort of crying. He was embarrassed to be sniveling like a child and embarrassed that he had called out England's name and was still hard despite his beating. America pulled the laptop screen to his face and activated the camera. The picture fully flaunted his reddened cheeks and the ugly wet streaks dripping down them, the pinched and peaky expression of his face betraying how well worked over he was. A raw mixture of misery and perpetuated horniness twisted itself painfully in America's belly and he had to remain curled up for several minutes, just breathing and getting the sobbing out of his system, before he could move.

Gingerly, America managed to sit up on his knees. He sat with his ass out and reached awkwardly behind himself to take the picture. The webcam actually did a good job of picking up all the redness spreading across America's skin. It took him by surprise to see what a number he had done on himself and he reached back to touch the tender flesh. That turned out to be a big mistake, since even the lightest brush of his fingers was enough to make him tense up in pain. America crawled on his hands and knees until he was positioned over the instruction papers again.

_I can just imagine your pathetic cries as you spank yourself. I bet you wish it were my hand instead of that spoon, don't you? It would hurt less, I imagine. I would be gentler with you than you are with yourself. You always think you have something to prove. I don't care how strong you think you are, all it takes is one little tap from my hand and we'll see who the groveling bitch is then, won't we?_

_I don't know what I like better: hearing your cry out in pain or pleasure. Perhaps a mixture of both? That sounds like a wonderful idea. Retrieve some lubricant, and then lie on your back. You may use a pillow to hold your hips up if your poor little bum can't take the feeling of fabric just yet. Finger yourself. You may come only from anal stimulation. Do not touch your cock. I want a picture with at least two fingers in your ass, you filthy child._

_Consider this your reward for being obedient, even if you hardly deserve my kindness. When you reach your climax, you may call my name, but only in the form of England or Britannia. Use my human name, and you will be punished. Don't try to lie to me when I ask, either._

America found lube and arranged himself as comfortably as he could. He set his feet flat on the bed so that his legs were spread and his asshole visible to the laptop, which he placed near the foot of the bed.

He spread the thick gel onto two fingers. Reaching underneath himself to avoid touching his cock and inadvertently disobeying England, America began to stroke his hole with a single finger. At first the cold lube felt invasive and gross, but as it warmed and the nerves of the ring of muscle began to awaken, America found himself sighing in contentment. He rubbed small circles over his hole, applying a little more pressure each time until his finger slid in without much resistance. America's ass tightened around his finger with a fluttering tremor, and he gasped, beginning to work the digit in and out. Almost involuntarily, he spread his feet further apart and canted his hips toward the ceiling.

America let his single finger stroke his hot walls for a full five minutes before working in a second. Now the pressure inside of him was mounting exponentially and he tossed his head back. He spread himself open, and then rammed his fingers in as far as they would go, getting increasingly rougher with himself as he grew accustomed to the thickness. Pulling out only long enough to squeeze more lube onto his fingers, America fucked himself frantically, thighs straining and stomach and chest heaving as he imagined England fucking him instead.

Two fingers were no longer enough and America gracelessly shoved a third inside. It hurt, and he groaned as his muscles clenched in protest, but kept fingering himself at the same pace. He hit his prostate only every fourth or fifth stroke, but after fifteen minutes of stimulation, he was very close to orgasm. Hitting the spacebar on his laptop with his toe, America snapped a picture of his ass being filled. He lifted himself up on an elbow just long enough to be sure the picture came out fine, then flopped back down and brought himself to climax with a mangled shout of some unintelligible mix between the two names England had permitted him to call. His orgasm was long and drawn out, several spurts of cum leaking across his belly, leaving him totally breathless and disoriented for a few moments.

His asshole was spasming so hard he had trouble removing his fingers, but once he did, America carelessly wiped his hand on his bedding and closed his eyes, his legs flopping open comically. He felt hot and dizzy and wanted nothing more than to relax and let his orgasm drag him into a daze or sleep, but he reached over and read the last set of instructions.

_You're such a dirty cumslut, poppet. I know you are. I know how you love to milk my cock until I come all over your handsome face. I know how you love to feel the stickiness on your skin and taste me. I love seeing you covered in my cum like the desperate wanton you are. However, since I can't be there to give you a good dousing, we'll have to improvise. Take some of your cum and spread it on your face. I won't make you taste it, but I want to see it on your cheeks and chin, I want it to look like you've been sucking cock like a good little bitch. Take a picture of it for me, love._

America's eyes slipped closed as he imagined going down on England and being used roughly until his face was covered in cum. He drew his knees together when an electric sensation ran its way up his groin and threatened to make him hard again. Breathing deeply to calm his libido down, America dragged two of his fingers through his own mess on his stomach and started to spread it across his face the way England wanted. The smell of his cum and the tacky feeling it left on his skin made him shiver all over and he thought of how much England would love seeing his face dirtied. Smearing the last of it on his face, America rolled onto his belly and wiggled his way over to the laptop once more.

This last picture was probably his favourite. America knew England would love it, too. His cheeks and chin were slick with cum, the silvery whiteness of it contrasting with the mottled pink of America's post-orgasm blush. His eyes looked sensuous and heavy, half-closed and equal parts satisfied and exhausted. America couldn't help the way his tongue peeked wetly out over his bottom lip. The whole effect was very much that of the cat pleased to have gotten the cream.

America made sure all the pictures were saved and closed the laptop and put it on the floor. He stood weakly and pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his discarded jeans, and then lay back down on his bed on his stomach. Reaching for the instructions one last time, America pushed the wooden spoon onto the floor.

_I hope you've learned your lesson, boy. You're a vile, lecherous creature and you're lucky I deign to care for you, let alone pleasure you. Yet, despite your insidious faults, I find I am madly in love with you. When next we meet, I will worship every inch of your tainted skin and make you scream like never before. If you thought this exercise was pleasurable, you have no idea what I have in store for you, love. You're a good little slut, Alfred, well deserving of the rewards I'm going to lavish upon you. I love you, pet, as I know you love me. More, even._

_Rest and take good care of yourself while I am unable to. I don't want to find my goods damaged the next time I have you naked beneath me._

America folded the sheets of paper in half and placed them on the nightstand. It made his skin crawl and feel hot to read the way England talked about him, treating him like property, like a toy. It was embarrassing and wrong, but it also felt good to have someone treat him so possessively. America knew how crazy much England loved him, and he felt the same. Games like these were just reminders of how much and how far they could go for each other.

Wiggling his way under the blankets to relax for a while, America sent off a quick text to England.

_Ur amazing. Sending u pics tomorrow after I sleep it off. Fucking intense. I love you I love you I love you._

A few minutes later, America's phone buzzed with England's reply, but America was already asleep, a dopey grin spread across his face.

 

_   
_


End file.
